You Can't Get A Kick Out Of Shoes When You Hear Of Starving People

Ever had that new pair of shoes for which you spent good money hurt your feet for no apparent reason? I have, just recently in fact. And I think I know why.

Many us seem to have this thing about buying footwear.

There are shoes for dress -- you need assorted colors, maybe three pairs to cover the basics. There are shoes for sports -- golf, tennis, bowling, running, basketball, baseball, a different shoe for each.

There are working shoes. You would not dare work in dress or sport shoes, unless of course it was the ''in'' thing at the moment. You could not work cows without cowboy boots, but you would not dare wear your boots while painting. For those jobs that are really dirty or messy, you need a pair of old shoes.

Let us not forget leisure shoes, boating shoes, beach thongs and shoes that feel comfortable while lounging around. The American public seems to have an almost endless imagination when it comes to the need for buying new shoes.

After deciding that my old pair of boat shoes were no longer fit to wear in public (I had worn them for a year and the sole was starting to wear), I began looking for a new pair.

My search for a bargain was a long one, but I finally managed to find my size on sale. After all, I was saving money by buying them on sale.

Sporting my new shoes, I attended a national missionary convention that night.

As I walked through the aisles of displays showing the various mission fields throughout the world, I could not help but notice the pictures on exhibit. There were pictures of starving children and adults from Third World countries, and closer to home, photos of Americans in need.

The one thing I noticed was the absence of shoes, and the ones I did see looked far worse than my old boat shoes. This brought back memories of having worked to provide shoes to the poor in Osceola County as part of a Jaycees project. I had known firsthand of the need.

Suddenly my feet began to hurt. It started out as only a minor discomfort. A missionary from Korea told of his family's work there, which included an orphanage. They took abandoned children off the streets and tried to provide them with the bare necessities. I learned that $24 a month would help provide those needs.

My feet began to feel more uncomfortable, as I fast figured that the price of my new boat shoes would provide a month-and-a-half of support to some starving barefoot child.

Those shoes were really becoming uncomfortable now.

As I prepared for bed that night, I glanced at the closet floor where a line of shoes and boots stared back at me and seemed to be asking a haunting question: Have you really gotten to the point where the appearance and style of your footwear is more important than helping your fellow man in need?